


I have loved the stars too fondly

by JBS_Forever



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Hurt Peter, Tony tries to comfort Peter, but let's be honest I should probably tag this as a deathfic, it's kind of right on the line, the aftermath of the battle with Thanos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 05:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12358221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JBS_Forever/pseuds/JBS_Forever
Summary: It occurs to Peter he might not be getting out of here at all.





	I have loved the stars too fondly

**Author's Note:**

> I ... I don't know why I did this. It's four in the morning. I can't sleep. Send help. and drugs. (and ignore grammar errors cause my brain is mush)
> 
> “Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;  
> I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”  
> ― Sarah Williams

For a moment he's flying.

 

A rush of air, wind blowing by, light and free and _alive_. The world is a dream beneath him. He is unbreakable, invincible. Free falling, but he has not shot a web and that sends panic through his limbs, wakes him back up to reality.

 

And then it stops. He's no longer flying. He's colliding, being slammed into the ground, every bone in his body screaming on impact. The force is so strong he knows he didn't just fall. He was thrown, ripped out of the sky and pummeled back down.

 

He sees nothing. There is pain for a moment, blinding pain that makes him cry out, and then it's gone and he feels a strange kind of peace, like maybe he'll wake up back in bed and find out none of this was real.

 

_Peter._

 

The sound of his name is close enough he could reach out and touch it. His arms don't move. They are weighted like lead, too heavy and numb.

 

He closes his eyes.

 

 _Peter_ , the voice calls, but he doesn't try to find it. He lets himself fall again, light and free and alive.

 

 

 

 

“Peter, wake up.”

 

A hand on his forehead, palm resting against his skin. It burns a little, charged like electricity. He tries to turn away, but it follows.

 

“Please,” it begs. “Wake up.”

 

 _Ben_? Oh God, he squeezes his eyes tighter. Ben coming back for him, coming back for revenge, coming back to make things right.

 

 _I'm not ready_ , he thinks. _I'm not ready._

 

“Peter, wake up!”

 

No, no, not Ben. Not a ghost. A real person, afraid and desperate and _begging_.

 

“T-Tony?”

 

There's a sigh of relief, but Tony's voice still sounds sharp, hitched in a way Peter has never heard it.

 

“Yeah, kid. Can you open your eyes?”

 

Peter doesn't want to because he's scared what he'll see when he does.

 

“I can't,” he whispers.

 

“Yes, you can. You can. Just open your eyes.”

 

It's like swimming through mud. He struggles, shoves, claws his way out, and then there is light, blinding and stinging. Tony is a blur of dark hair.

 

“Tony?”

 

“I'm here,” he says.

 

Peter swallows and slides his tongue along his teeth. There's a weird copper taste in his mouth. He gags when it goes down.

 

“Easy,” Tony says. “Try not to move.” He still has a hand on Peter's head, keeping him in place. Peter tries to peer around him but the action sends spots dancing in front of his eyes.

 

“Tony,” he says thickly. “Where are we?”

 

But what he wants to say is _what happened_? Except he doesn't want to say it. He doesn't want to know.

 

“We're not on Earth, if that's what you're asking.”

 

Pieces come back to him. The spaceship. The war. Thanos picking him up and driving him into the ground. He remembers the stars. Destroyed, blown apart. Did the Guardians survive? Did Gamora ever get back up?

 

“What – ” He struggles to move his limbs, raises his hands up to his face in time for Tony to push them down again. “What did – did I – did you –Tony?”

 

Tony doesn't answer him for a long minute. He's becoming more clear along the edges and Peter wishes he wasn't. Now he can see the worry in his expression. The fear. The defeat. No one ever truly wins in a war.

 

“We're getting out of here,” Tony says finally, but there's something wrong in his voice, something painful under the words.

 

Peter coughs and feels liquid bubble in his throat. He spits out, sees red, _red red red_ , and _oh_.

 

Tony doesn't stop him when he runs a finger over his lips and brings it back to look at the blood. It occurs to Peter maybe he's not getting out of here at all.

 

“You're gonna be fine. We can fix this. Your healing powers are already working.”

 

But they aren't strong enough, are they? Nothing can stop death. Death is a wanderer, a drifter who lands in all the wrong places at all the wrong times, and he's not in the business of fixing things. He only takes them.

 

“How … how bad is it?”

 

The aftermath, the damage he sustained, everything … Peter doesn't know what he's asking.

 

“The Earth is still standing,” Tony says.

 

“What about the rest of the planets?”

 

There's no answer. Despair settles heavy in his stomach, but just like the pain, it's gone before he can think about it. He feels like he's floating away.

 

“Nuh-uh. Keep your eyes open, kid. You have to stay awake.”

 

Peter blinks at him. “Tony?” he mumbles.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“No more field trips.”

 

“No more field trips.”

 

 

 

 

He doesn't know how long he's gone, but when he wakes again he's in another spaceship and he sees Ben. It's hard to speak, his mouth sticky and his jaw tight.

 

“'m' sorry. I tried,” he says.

 

Ben shakes his head. _No hope_ , he seems to say. _There's no hope_.

 

“It's okay, kid,” Tony says. “You did good.”

 

Peter focuses on him. He can feel the tremors from Tony's hand as it rests near his hairline, can hear his heart pounding in his chest. Advanced hearing. Heightened responses. Will he ever need them again?

 

“Tony, I'm sorry,” he says. “I'm sorry.”

 

“Don't be sorry. You saved my life. You saved a lot of lives.”

 

But he didn't save the one he was supposed to.

 

 _Ben Ben Ben I'm sorry_.

 

 

 

“Can you … when you get back … can you call May?”

 

“Yeah,” Tony says easily. “I'll have Happy pick her up and meet us at the hospital.”

 

The hospital. New York City. Peter doesn't think he'll make it that far. He thinks of the destroyed stars. They will still shine for them. It will take so long for their light to diminish they will still see them on Earth for thousands of years. But they are gone.

 

“Did he … did he kill them all?” Peter asks breathlessly. “The stars?”

 

“No, kid. He didn't. Now be quiet.”

 

Pressure pushes against his brain. His tongue is dry, too big for his mouth. He shifts and it sends lightning through his skull, down his torso and into his toes. His eyes are wet.

 

“The suit is dumb,” he says, flexing his toes against it.

 

“What?”

 

“Who … who thinks it's a good idea to wear a skintight suit? Like... you can't do anything. It's too tight.”

 

“Are you calling my creation dumb?” Tony sounds too shaken to be mad. He lets out a garbled laugh that hurts Peter to hear. “In all fairness, Pepper said the same thing. She didn't think it was … appropriate.”

 

“She's right,” Peter mumbles, and smiles when a normal laugh comes from Tony.

 

“It's practical. Nothing for bad guys to grab onto. And it's flexible enough for all your spider needs. You wanna try all those crazy flips in a suit like mine?”

 

“Yeah though.”

 

“I'll tell you what. Once we get back, I'll start designing you a suit that fits a little … looser. But you're not doing flips in the Iron Man one.”

 

Peter's lips twitch. He coughs again and Tony swears.

 

“Okay, enough talking. Save your strength.”

 

 _No hope_ , Ben says. _No hope. No hope._

 

Peter stares at him over Tony's shoulder. He knows, somehow, he won't go away this time. That he'll stay with Peter until the end. Just like it was meant to be. Just like Peter stayed with him.

 

“I messed up, Tony.”

 

“No, you didn't.”

 

But he did. “Tell them … tell them I'm sorry. Tell May I'm sorry.”

 

The silence that follows is almost unbearable. Peter lets his eyes close, because he can tell now Tony has known since the moment he woke up, since the moment Thanos tossed him like a rag doll and broke him to pieces, that he'd never see Earth again.

 

“I will,” Tony says quietly. “I will, kid.”

 

Ben touches his arm, his fingers cold and calming. Tony touches his forehead, his fingers warm and gentle. There's comfort. Peace. Peter doesn't say anything else. He doesn't need to.

 

He has loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

 

**Author's Note:**

> In the comics, Thanos was planning on destroying all the stars, so like ... this corny mess happened. Did I mention I can't sleep? Don't hold it against me.


End file.
